


Seedy

by rhiannonhero



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-04
Updated: 2011-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 09:52:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhiannonhero/pseuds/rhiannonhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark is a jealous bitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seedy

**Author's Note:**

> Written in July 2004, and originally posted to the Smallville Slash Archive.

He was on the seedy side of town, no doubt about it. Clark stood under a street light and watched the drunken bar-hoppers trip down the street, holding one another up with arms and laughter. The establishments bordering the well-traversed sidewalks didn't cater to the type of clientele that Clark would have expected to see given who he was following.

Although he couldn't begin to fathom why he would be surprised at anything Lex did anymore. Lex was like the anti-logic. That's why it usually took Clark a long time to realize that something was going on with Lex that maybe he really should be paying attention to.

Because usually, in the normal world, A equaled A, and B equaled B--but not with Lex. In fact, sometimes, when it came to Lex, A actually equaled D, or even F. Clark frowned. He wasn't sure that his example even made sense. See? Sometimes he didn't follow his own logic, so how could he be expected to follow Lex's anti-logic?

With that being the case, he couldn't really fault himself that it had taken him a few months--or so--to realize that there was a pattern to Lex's 'weekend business meetings' that led Clark to believe they weren't business meetings at all.

Every other week, Lex would cancel all of his weekend plans, including arrangements he'd made with Clark, and disappear. He didn't answer his cell phone and he didn't reply to emails. And that was odd because considering the tenuous nature of their 'friendship', always on the edge of shattering, they were both very wary of doing or saying anything that the other might interpret as a slight.

Clark didn't like the new routine. Not at all.

Especially given Lex's propensity for becoming involved with the wrong kind of woman, i.e. the kind that wanted him dead. Nor did Clark like not being able to get in touch with Lex while he was away--just to check in, make sure that everything was okay.

Clark started to lose hours at the Daily Planet when he should have been working, entertaining vivid and horrific fantasies that featuring a kidnapped Lex who lay suffering, tied up and broken. He'd decided to had to put an end to the mystery and find out just what the hell was going on.

Clark knew that most people would find it very strange that he followed Lex's calendar so closely--even Lex had remarked on it a time or two, (not-so)jokingly asking if Clark was stalking him. And Clark was willing to admit that memorizing Lex's schedule, weeks and sometimes months out, just wasn't something that a normal friend did. But Clark didn't consider himself to be a normal friend. Not when it came to Lex.

And if Lois, or Pete, or anyone else tried to tell him that he was a little too obsessed with his so-called friend, Clark just told them to mind their own business, because they didn't understand. Clark wasn't sure that he even understood; it was just that their lives were so intertwined that sometimes Clark couldn't tell where his life ended and Lex's life began. It was just one huge mess, one giant mind-fuck to quote Pete.

Clark wasn't sure when he'd become convinced that if he could just save Lex then he could save the world. Sometimes he thought that it had come to him in a dream, and sometimes he thought that it had been downloaded into his cells when he accessed the information stored for him in the caves, and other times he thought that it was most likely a silly superstition left over from his teenage crush on Lex, when it had seemed all important to keep the object of his admiration safe from harm.

It had taken years for him to acknowledge and accept that he'd had sexual feelings for the man who was once his best friend. Okay, and so maybe he was still working on acknowledging the fact that he continued to have what could be described as 'more than platonic' feelings for Lex.

He'd heard one of Pete's ex-girlfriends describe it as a 'man-crush'--defined as one straight man being physically and emotionally attracted to another straight man, with little actual likelihood of any consummation of said feelings. The girlfriend had said it was normal and said that she'd had a 'girl-crush' on the French professor, Mademoiselle Mireille, for several months. Pete had been fascinated by that and quizzed her relentlessly on just what, exactly, she wanted to do with Mademoiselle Mireille. Clark suspected Pete was trying to figure out a way to have a threesome.

Standing in the shadows of a filthy street, Clark had to admit that it might have taken him a long time to acknowledge his 'man-crush' on Lex, but it was taking Lex _decades_ to pick out a candy bar in the all-night drug store.

He had followed Lex's car from Smallville to Edge City on foot so he didn't mind the small rest, leaning against the side of the building, but still, how long did it really take to decide between a Mars Bar and a Milky Way? Clark looked at his watch when Lex finally selected a Three Musketeers. Apparently it took Lex thirteen minutes and fifty-seven seconds.

A woman in a pink miniskirt stopped a few feet in front of Clark and vomited into a sewage grate. Her friends laughed, screeching and stumbling. Clark frowned. Yeah, definitely a seedy part of town.

Clark turned his attention back to the convenience store and watched Lex pay for his purchase through the huge glass window panes bearing the stenciled words 'McAddy And Son's Pharmacy And Deli'. Even big cities had strange combination businesses when it came to the mom-n-pop places.

Lex swung through the door, head back and already eating the candy bar. He appeared peaceful and even happy. Clark didn't like that look. It usually meant trouble with a capital W--for Wife. Clark was really sick of Lex having wives--as he'd previously noted, they were generally homicidal and all of them took up way too much of Lex's time.

The crowd on the street seemed oblivious to Lex. Clark was surprised by that. It was evident that any human in the greater Metropolis area who could read or watch television recognized, and usually feared, the Luthor heir. Here, though, people were either unaware of the greatness in their presence, or they were too drunk to care.

Lex took his time getting to his final destination and Clark had to weave around, dodging a lot of loud, high people, in order to stay a sufficient distance behind him. After Lex checked his watch, stuffed his hand in a pocket, pulled out a few bills, and entered a very common looking bar, advertising _erotic dancing_ in bold letters across the awning, Clark darted across the street and stood to the side of the doorway.

Clark tried to figure out if A was D or F in this scenario. If A was D, then most likely Lex was involved in shady business dealings with someone within the establishment. But, really, that was the most logical conclusion one might draw from this bizarre behavior and destination, so that probably wasn't the case.

Now, if A was F, then Lex had started some kind of 'relationship' with one of the women employed as an erotic dancer. In other words, Lex was fucking a stripper. Clark took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

That seemed logical, but at the same time incredibly stupid, and so that might actually add up to Lex anti-logic. Clark narrowed his eyes. Homicidal stripper? He'd have to stick around in case he needed to de-claw the bitch.

Clark was glad that Pete had taken him to several strip joints in college and completely burned out his embarrassment at viewing the gyrating, naked, female body. Besides, there had been that one summer of red-kryptonite haze when one female body had melted into another female body, and males into males, and males into females, all the flesh just sliding together in one orgasmic memory. Clark swallowed hard and dismissed the familiar rush. That was the past. He had a job to do--protecting Lex from himself and from slutty, murdering, gold-digging whores. He stepped up to the door when the leather-clad bouncer asked for ID and twenty bucks.

The bar was smoke-free, as dictated by the new Edge City smoking laws, and music pounded over stereo speakers as long limbed couples moved together on a dance floor across the room. Clark scanned the room for Lex and found him at the bar, sipping a dark-colored drink and eyeing the dancers.

Clark slinked into the nearest corner, trying to hide his huge frame in the shadows. He kept his attention on Lex, who seemed oblivious to everyone around him, focused entirely on the bodies twisting and shaking on the dance floor. It was a pretty small bar; it was only a matter of time before Lex noticed him and Clark's brain clicked through a hundred of his well-rehearsed excuses for being at the wrong place at the right time, or vice versa, but none of them seemed to fit the scenario at hand. Besides, he couldn't even remember the last time Lex had demanded an excuse from him. That was part of the deal now--tenuous friendship in exchange for angry glares, disgusted snorts, and smirking silences.

Still, he let his eyes travel the room, looking for inspiration.

The first thing he noticed was that this was no ordinary strip club, because although the clientele was mainly masculine, there didn't appear to be any strippers. In fact, all of the girls looked rather--

Like cross-dressers.

Those two guys in the corner were definitely kissing.

And the dancers were all guys--

Together.

Oh.

Ohhhh.

Clark blushed furiously for the first time in years. The swell of memory rose inside of him as he remembered the feel of hot, masculine mouths on his cock, and the loud, deep yell of a man coming hard while Clark fucked him fast and hard. He scrubbed his hand over his face and dismissed the memories, forcing himself back into the present.

Well, wouldn't Pete have a decade's worth of fun with this one? Clark had followed his man-crush to a gay bar. And what the fuck was _Lex_ doing in a gay bar?

Maybe A was D after all? Or, God, what if A was Z? Something completely unexpected, totally off the radar. Holy hell.

"Hi, cutie. Can I buy you a drink?"

Clark turned to the small blond man propositioning him. He wondered how long he'd been standing in the corner looking clueless and in need of rescue.

"I'm--" Clark thought quickly. "Here to meet a friend."

"Aren't we all? I'm Eric. And you are?"

"Clark."

"Well, Clark, you seem a little dazed. How about that drink?"

Clark smiled. "I'm just...new here."

"Oh? I never would have guessed."

Clark noticed that Lex had deserted his post at the bar and was now sitting at a table alone, facing the dance floor.

"The drink?" Eric pressed.

"No. Thank you. I'm, uh--" Clark closed his eyes, begging silently for inspiration. "Working! Yeah, I'm working."

Eric raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Well, you know, Bob doesn't take kindly to hustlers in his bar, so you might want to take your business elsewhere."

Clark blushed again. "No. I'm an investigative reporter. I'm doing an article on, uh, Edge City's gay social scene."

Eric laughed. "Oh, okay. Sorry for the mix up. I hope you aren't insulted."

Clark shook his head.

"But, you're gay, right? I mean, my gaydar hasn't failed, has it?"

Clark didn't know what to say. He had always thought that he was straight, until he'd experienced some very hot blow jobs in back alleys during a red kryptonite-tainted summer. Boys with big mouths and hot throats. Men with tight asses. He felt his dick thicken to half-mast.

"I've been with men."

Eric nodded, giving Clark an appraising look. "Ah, I see--"

Clark was glad Eric 'saw', because he sure as hell didn't, but again he reminded himself of the purpose for this outing, letting his gaze fall back on Lex. Eric took note of his preoccupation and said, "No good hitting on that one. He's got a regular."

Clark's stomach curled in on itself.

"A guy?"

Eric snorted. "Of course."

Clark didn't think he blinked for several minutes as he puzzled out the emotions and thoughts flooding him. Lex was in a gay bar. He came here often. He had a regular. He was fucking a guy.

Lex was gay? A was Z? A wasn't even in the alphabet.

Clark swallowed that possible conclusion and struggled on, his mind whirring. So Lex was gay and he was having sex with another man--and not with Clark. His hands clenched into angry fists.

Why did piss that Clark off _so goddamn much_?

He felt like he had when Lois announced her engagement to Peter Morgan. So, yes, he was jealous. Intensely, sickeningly jealous.

It seemed different somehow to know that Lex was fucking another man. Sure Clark had always been jealous of Lex's wives to some extent, but he'd always known that he was the most important guy in Lex's life, resentment and dysfunction be damned--

But now.

Now he was apparently sharing him with some other guy. Someone Lex _fucked_ , and maybe cared about, and definitely _broke plans with Clark_ to be with.

:::::::

Eric steered Clark toward the bar and pressed a drink into his hands. "Hey, are you okay? Is he your guy or something?"

Clark shook his head, swallowing the drink hastily. He felt like his heart was about to claw its way out of his chest via his throat, and his eyes stung sharply.

Eric's hand on his arm was solid and warm. "You're not really a reporter, are you? You followed him here."

Clark coughed a little and wiped his sleeve over his mouth. He was sweating all of a sudden and he felt like he might vomit. He managed to shake his head again, muttering, "I'm a reporter."

Eric nodded sympathetically, but with every indication that he thought Clark's story was bullshit. "Listen, you know the best way to get even, don't you?"

Clark stared at Eric who sidled up to his side and trailed his hand up Clark's arm, grasping his neck. He blinked when Eric stood on his tip-toes and whispered in his ear, "Beat him at his own game. Flaunt yourself with someone else--" Eric's hand gripped the nape of his neck tightly "--say, like me, for example. I promise I won't let you down." Clark was surprised when his cock responded to the gravelly promise in Eric's voice.

Later, when his head had cleared, Clark wished he'd taken Eric up on his offer. He imagined the various reactions the Lex might have to seeing Clark dancing in a gay bar in Edge City, or to getting a blow job in the back alley, or the bathroom. He'd done it a lot once upon a time, and he could do it again. He could make guys want him.

But, he hadn't. Instead, he'd pulled away from Eric and rushed from the club, his head whirling and vomit pushing at the back of his throat. The sign above flashed the words 'erotic dancing' over and over, and for some reason, even miles away, he could still see it.

The air seemed cleaner the further he got from the seedy side of town and the revelation that Lex was gay. That Lex was fucking another guy. That Lex wasn't fucking Clark.

Yeah, the seedy side of town. The side of town that stank of puke, beer, come, and sweat, where the scent of exhaust was a reprieve, and where drugs could be purchased, along with sex, on every corner.

Damn. What a place to realize that you were in love with they guy who used to be your best friend. What a place to realize that you wanted to hold him down and fuck him blind. Yeah, that went way beyond a simple 'man-crush'. That was more along the lines of violently, starkly, purely 'gay'.

:::::::

Clark was half-way home when he turned around to go back. The blood in his veins had cooled enough for him to remember the reason he'd followed Lex to begin with. Just because whoever Lex was fucking was a guy, didn't make Lex's situation any less of a potentially disastrous one. If Lex's taste when it came to males was as dreadful as it was with women, then this guy could be as dangerous as Helen, or Desiree, or anyone else that Lex had let sucker punch him over the years.

Clark didn't go back into the club. Instead he leapt up onto the roof and hid behind an old chimney. Adjusting his eyes he was able to see clearly into the room below, and with a small stretch of his ears, he was able to hear the thrumming music.

Lex sat alone at the table, sipping a drink and looking hungry. There was no other word for the expression on Lex's face, full of anticipation and need. He'd never imagined Lex like this, letting his need show through to the surface of his skin, radiating with it in a public place, not reigning it in, but sharing it with the world, screaming with his body, his expression and his eyes, "I want, I want, I need, I need!"

But no one seemed to notice. Everyone was too busy getting their rocks off, making out in corners or dancing, closed-eyed and blissful, to notice the man in their midst who shouldn't be there, and who certainly shouldn't be sharing with a roomful of strangers something he'd never shared with his best friend.

Yeah, best friend. He could say it and just because there was all of that _shit_ between them, it didn't make the attachment less true, no matter how much they had both wanted to let it go over the years. No matter how many times they'd tried to deny it with words, deeds, and glances, it had always then been there, that tie that wouldn't break.

Clark stood up and leaned against the back of the chimney, crossed his hands over his chest in defiance of his emotions. He would not feel these things. It was ridiculous and he just would not allow it. He was here for the sole purpose of protecting Lex and anything he felt over and above that was best denied and repressed. He could do that with the best of them. The champion of denial--that was Clark Kent.

He crouched back down again when the dance-floor began to clear. Something was about to happen. Clark could hear the excited whispers, but didn't bother tuning in to hear the words.

A voice boomed over the speakers in the club. "Gentlemen and gents, I'm pleased to present the hottest, biggest, thickest, ever-hard star of our show--" Clark rolled his eyes at the cheesy pause, but noticed that Lex put his glass down and leaned forward eagerly. "--Ben Hung. And is he ever!"

Clark nearly choked on his own spit when a beautiful, nearly naked man spun onto the dance floor, gyrating and grinning, all to the tune of Abba's _Dancing Queen_. Lex seemed riveted, and when Ben Hung dropped his towel, Clark gasped out loud.

That guy was hung all right. Damn.

Clark had never seen a cock that big. It swung heavy and purple between his thighs, too big to rise to a full-salute, but damn if it wasn't trying, arching towards Ben's stomach, pointing out from his body like a compass.

Clark's breath came fast as he recalled the sensation of a thick cock pressing into his ass, and couldn't stop himself from imagining Ben's huge dick shoving into him. He flushed and rubbed his hands over his eyes, shaking with desire that he'd managed to forget about for so long, only to have it thrust in his face over and over tonight, just as Ben was thrusting his giant hard-on into the face of the crowd below.

Clark fondled his own straining erection. It was big, he knew that based on what he'd seen, and various reactions he'd dealt with over the years, but he knew that it was _nothing_ compared to Ben's giant schlong. He felt utterly inadequate in the face of it, still he stroked himself through his jeans, pressing with the heel of his hand to try to satisfy the need for stimulation.

Ben's smooth body, honey colored and well-muscled, moved throughout two songs, taunting the audience with his beauty, tossing dark curls and flashing hazel eyes in a way that was nearly coquettish. By the time it was over, Clark understood why Lex would want to fuck this stripper, and Clark had no doubt that this was the man Lex was fucking. He was as hard as a rock himself, and aching to spill his seed. For the first time in years, he was more than a little tempted to find a random fuck, and he spotted Eric in the crowd, still alone, still handsome. It would feel so good to come down some guy's throat again. It'd been ten years or more since he'd--

But Lex was leaving with that Ben guy. He'd followed him into the back of the club and now they were leaving the club together from the rear door. Clark prepared to follow them, but found he didn't have to go far. Lex and Ben entered the hotel directly adjacent to the club, making out in the elevator, ripping one another's clothes off as the lift hurtled toward the penthouse suite.

Another big leap and Clark was stationed on the roof of the hotel, peering into the penthouse below, watching with jealousy rising like bile in his throat, and his cock throbbing hard against his jeans.

He knew he shouldn't be doing this. But he had to.

He had to protect Lex.

And, he had to know.

:::::::

Lex was on elbows and knees, his face rapturous as he was reamed again and again by Ben's unbelievably massive cock. Sweat dripped off of Lex's nose and down the side of his face; his back was also glistening with it. Clark blinked as Ben pushed Lex's face into the mattress with one huge hand, held his hips steady with the other and thrust the whole length of his cock into Lex's ass.

Lex howled and his body spasmed.

Clark nearly ripped the roof off, but held back when Ben gasped, "That's right. Come for me again. Yeah."

Lex shuddered hard as Ben continued to fuck him. Ben wrapped his hands under Lex's shoulders and raised him up. Lex's head fell back onto Ben's shoulder, his face to the ceiling, and Clark saw the blissed-out expression, the glazed eyes, and the open mouth groaning with pleasure.

Ben fucked Lex so hard that his lithe body jarred with every thrust, his eyes rolled back into his head and he shuddered through another orgasm. Clark watched in shock as Lex spurted a small load, the third since Ben started fucking him. Lex rested completely limp in Ben's arms riding the snapping hips helplessly, until Ben wrapped his arms under Lex's arms and over his shoulders, grasping him and pulling him down hard as Ben thrust up. Lex crowed and shook again, though no come spilled from his jerking cock. Ben bit down on the back of Lex's neck, growling as his orgasm took him.

Clark sat hard, aching, and utterly broken with jealousy, watching the tender way Ben took care of Lex, wiping him with a warm cloth and bundling him into the covers. Lex was incoherent, and Clark winced as he nestled into Ben's arms.

Clark watched with a heavy heart and a hard cock as Lex slept for over an hour, and knew the moment Lex woke up. His expression stiffened a little and his eyelids tightened. Then his eyes were open and he looked at Ben with an odd expression, as though he didn't even know him. But that lasted only a moment.

Lex sighed, smiled, and rolled over. Ben followed and pulled the covers down from Lex's back, revealing a long, pale, plane leading down to his round ass. Ben moved between Lex's legs and pressed his ass cheeks apart.

With a stuttering sigh, Clark gave in to the intense need vibrating through him and unzipped his jeans to relieve the pressure on his cock.

Lex lay languid on the bed until Ben dropped his face between Lex's ass cheeks, doing things to Lex's hole with his mouth and tongue that sent Lex into convulsive spasms, his mouth full of curse words and demands for more. The torture from Ben's tongue went on and on and Clark found himself jerking off slowly, watching Lex writhe below.

After what seemed like an hour, but was probably no more than ten minutes, Ben pulled back and shoved a thumb into Lex's ass, rolling a condom onto his cock with the other hand. Lex pushed up to elbows and knees--

Clark couldn't imagine how Lex could be ready to take Ben's cock again so soon.

But he was. Ben wasn't even feeding it by inches, but just pushing in with a quick, sure stroke. Lex gasped and went rigid for a few heartbeats before relaxing and moving a hand back to Ben's thigh to urge him on.

And it started again.

That giant cock filling Lex and leaving him, filling and leaving. Clark watched as Lex's muscles quivered and then gave out, collapsing to the bed, and Ben never missed a stroke. Clark's hand moved in time, his own breath coming is gasps, his hips snapping in time to Ben's thrusts, and his balls drawing up letting him know that he was going to come sooner rather than later.

Lex was crooning below and Ben pounded him mercilessly. Clark blinked sweat out of his eyes, thumbing the head of his cock hard, as Ben shifted angles. Lex howled, clenched the sheets and convulsed. Again. Again. Lex squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. Clark saw the drop of blood forming under his teeth in Lex's effort to keep from screaming. Still, he cried out, "Oh, Christ!", when he spasmed with another dry orgasm.

Clark moaned as his own cock jerked and spilled over his fist, but he kept pumping, using the come as lube to reduce the friction on his overly-sensitive cock. He could barely hear Lex anymore over the rush of blood in his own ears, but he couldn't look away, didn't blink as Lex submitted to Ben's cock for what seemed like hours, muscles obviously played out, and his balls dry, but still the fuck went on. Lex had never looked so vulnerable and yet strong as he did when he raised up on his hands and knees again to push back against Ben's thrusts.

Clark came again, too, his cock too tender to try for a third time, and he wondered how long this would go on.

Finally, it ended. Lex shook through what seemed to be the most painful, yet amazing, orgasm ever, based on the cries he let out, and then Ben came again, kissing Lex's neck, and smoothing his hands down Lex's quivering flanks like Lex was a horse who'd run an especially good race.

Again, Ben took his time with cleaning them both, and Lex fell asleep almost immediately. Clark sat on the rooftop, using his forefinger to scratch at the dried come that now decorated the side of the chimney.

Now that it was over, he didn't know what to do. He knew that he didn't stand a chance with Lex. There was no way he could ever compete with _that_. And, besides, Lex had never wanted him, why would he start now just because Clark had uncovered his own unrequited lust?

Not to mention the state of their friendship and the delicate balance that kept them from pushing too hard, that kept them from the place where they were enemies and mutual destruction was at hand.

There was nothing that he could have here. It would have been better left undiscovered. And the more he thought about it, about Lex and wanting him, about Lex fucking Ben, about the horrible awakening of his libido, well--the whole thing really pissed him off.

:::::::

Clark watched for over twenty hours, not caring about the rain that spit down on him in the middle of the night, ignoring the sun that stared down on him with a disapproving eye. He just kept watching, protecting Lex, as he fucked and fucked and fucked. It was--disgusting. But not for the reasons Pete would think.

Clark was furious. Absolutely and completely enraged. Lex hadn't exchanged more than fifty words with Ben, and most of those consisted of "yeah", and "fuck me harder", and "oh, God, please, yes" or some variant thereof. As he watched his best friend have sex like a song on auto-repeat, Clark found himself gritting his teeth to keep from ripping off the roof and telling Lex what he thought of his behavior, right that very moment.

What the _fuck_ was Lex thinking? What was he _doing_ fucking this guy he obviously barely knew, and probably didn't care to know beyond the stretch of cock filling his ass? It was dangerous. It was reckless. It was irresponsible. A Luthor, no-- _Lex_ should not be putting himself at risk like that for something like sex. He was important, dammit. He needed to watch out for himself. It was another example of just the kind of decision-making process that led him to marry homicidal maniacs and led Clark to memorize his schedules. What the fuck was this? It was clear that in this case A obviously didn't equal B or C or D--or even Z. No, apparently A equaled death by orgasm with a stranger.

Clark catalogued a million reasons why Lex was a bastard for fucking this guy, and when Lex was done getting rimmed, Clark was going to fucking say something about it. Tomorrow. In Metropolis. Or something.

How he'd explain knowing about Ben and the sex was irrelevant. He just wouldn't. He'd say that he was a journalist and he never revealed his sources.

So, Clark never really understood how it happened that when Lex left the hotel at nearly midnight on Sunday night, walked the fifteen blocks to his car, and keyed the door open, Clark darted from the shadows, grabbed Lex's arm, dodged the instinctive punch, and asked in a broken voice, "Why, Lex? Why him? Why didn't you ever want _me_?"

The three seconds that it took for him to realize what he'd asked and to register the expression of shock, then mild confusion, then anger on Lex's face, passed with bated breath. Then Clark took off, he didn't know if he'd actually gone immediately into super-speed right in front of Lex's eyes, but even if he had, it wouldn't be the first time. And he didn't fucking care anyway.

The dirty, dreary apartment that waited for him at the end of his journey was perfect. For the first time in a long time he was glad to come home to an empty place, free of mothers, fathers, friends or lovers. He didn't bother turning on the lights. He flipped the answering machine off and unplugged the phones. He latched and double-latched the door, before crawling into bed, fully clothed, and burying his head under the pillow.

:::::::

The next morning he plugged in the phone just long enough to call Lois, garbling his voice, and claiming to be sick. Lois sounded like she didn't believe him, but said, "Okay, Smallville, I'll tell Perry for you. I hope you feel better very soon." Clark suspected that she'd make him pay for his absence--if he ever got out of bed again. At the moment, he wasn't sure he was going to do that. He was certain that Lex would be able to find him anywhere but here, because obviously Lex wouldn't dare to venture anywhere near Clark's bed.

Before he let himself acknowledge he unfairness of that mental remark, he rolled onto his stomach, and fell asleep again.

His dreams were of little comfort, though. They were endlessly populated with Lex's white skin, Lex's eyes rolled back in his head, Lex's mouth open with the urgent sounds of sex and orgasm. Clark woke up spurting come and biting his pillow.

That just pissed him off more. After showering and changing into a new pair of boxers and a t-shirt, he banged around in the kitchen making rice and beans. He wished he could bang harder, but demolishing the stove wasn't going to help him stop dreaming of Lex's beautiful cock, or the way Lex's whole body trembled when he'd been fucked for a solid hour or more.

Clark didn't bother seasoning his food, and as he shoveled what might as well have been soggy cardboard into his mouth, he thought about how resilient Lex had been in bed. The way he'd taken it again and again, to the point that Clark thought that even _he_ would have been in pain. He knew that Lex was a mutant, and years ago they'd even discussed the fact that Lex seemed to have the luck of the devil when it came to his health--healing quickly, always escaping the clutches of death. If Clark had been less upset, he probably would have laughed at Lex's Incredible Accommodating Asshole.

Instead he showered, leaned against the shower stall walls, and fisted his cock until he came hard. He'd tried to think of anyone but Lex, but gave up quickly, remembering Lex's wide open mouth sucking Ben's cock. Clark let himself imagine Lex sucking him like that, taking him in, and swallowing--

"Uhnngh," Clark moaned, his cock jerking with hard, breath-taking pulses.

In a clean pair of boxers and another t-shirt, one that read _Life So Hard_ , across the chest, Clark rolled into bed and slept again, hoping for a reprieve from his horny confusion.

:::::::

The next morning he debated for fifteen minutes whether or not to call in sick to work. He'd worked at the Daily Planet for two years now and he'd never taken a sick day before. Still, what good would laying in bed another day really do? He stared at the ceiling, counted out several animal shapes in the spackle, and picked up the phone.

"Hey, Lois."

"Smallville! How are you feeling this bright morning? All better?"

Clark wrinkled his nose. Something was up. Lois was never this cheerful. "Uh..."

"Your friend, your buddy, your pal, Lex Luthor called, oh, a million times or so yesterday, and now he's sitting at your desk going through your drawer." Lois chirped, an edge of perverse delight in her voice. "I hope there's nothing confidential in there?"

Clark sighed heavily. Fuck. There was no other option. "Tell Perry I'm still sick."

:::::::

He'd known when Lois told him that Lex was at the Planet that it was only a matter of time before Lex showed up at his apartment, but he'd thought that Lex might give up and go away if he turned out all of the lights, crouched by the bed, and barely breathed.

After an hour of ringing, knocking, kicking, and yelling at the complaining neighbors to fuck off and mind their own business, Lex finally gave up. Clark used x-ray to watch him stomp down the stairs, deftly avoiding a sleeping homeless guy, get in his Ferrari and pull away with an angry, violent, screech of tire leaving its eternal mark on concrete.

When Clark checked his cell later that day, there were over forty messages from Lex, all in varying tones, some pleading, some cajoling, some angry, and the last one--cold as ice. Lex simply stated that he was too old for such bullshit and that when Clark grew the fuck up, he could give Lex a call.

Clark listened to the first message again, just to take the chill off the last.

"Clark, listen, we need to talk. He means nothing to me. You've got to know that. And, I had no idea--" Lex cleared his throat. "Clark, I'm sorry that you found out like this. I should have told you. Fuck. Call me."

Christ, Lex didn't even get it. It wasn't the secret it was--

Fuck.

It was just pure, unadulterated jealousy. Clark hung his head. Maybe Kryptonians mature emotionally at a much slower rate? Would that be a possible explanation for his decent into the mire of self-pity? Maybe.

Still, he couldn't see Lex, couldn't talk to him. Not now. Not when he couldn't stop thinking of all the things he wanted to do to Lex, all the things that would erase any taste or memory of Ben from Lex's mind.

Not when he knew that he was utterly inadequate and could never compete with the exotic-dancing-hung-stud-of-Edge-City. Hell, just thinking of plowing Lex's ass made Clark come in ten seconds, he'd never be able to fuck Lex into oblivion like that Ben guy.

And besides, there was still no indication that Lex wanted Clark, anyway. At this point, what would it hurt to pout in the dark of his apartment for a few more days?

:::::::

Well, it might hurt his stomach, as it turned out. Clark was fucking famished. He'd only had the rice and beans in the cupboards, and a frozen pizza in the freezer, when he'd holed up in the apartment. Clark knew he'd need more food than that since he'd called and left a message on Perry's voice mail that he'd be out all week. He'd implied, though not clearly stated, that it was doctor's orders to rest for awhile.

Clark showered and pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. It was a hot summer night, well after one in the morning, and he'd slept the whole day away. The local grocery had closed hours ago and he decided to take the subway down to the all-night Shop-N-Save on Dinsmore.

He kept his head down on the subway, though it was empty. He counted the number of scuff marks lining the floor, and then closed his eyes until the train stopped. The Shop-N-Save was only a few blocks away, and he loaded up on frozen dinners, some cookies, and a gallon of milk. It would get him through the week, and he also picked up two trashy romance novels because he thought they might wash his brain free of Lex related sex fantasies. The reasonable part of his brain doubted that technique would actually work, but he was desperate, so he ignored the dissenting opinion.

The train was again empty, and Clark leaned his head back to count the number of times the letter E was used in the advertisements lining the space above the windows. He had counted fourteen when the screech and rumble of the door between cars opening and closing caught his attention.

Words could not describe the sinking of his stomach and the slow trickle of blood from his face, as apprehension coiled inside of him. Lex sauntered toward Clark with a smirk planted firmly on his lips, and his blue eyes stabbingly bright. Clark swallowed hard when Lex dropped down next to him, toeing Clark's shopping bags aside.

"You're not the only one who can spy on people, Clark."

Clark bowed his head, not meeting Lex's eyes.

"I've been watching and waiting. I knew it was only a matter of time before that farm-fed stomach of yours drove you from seclusion."

Clark crossed his arms over his chest, shrugged. So what if Lex knew him too well? So the fuck what?

"And, I think I figured it out. It took me awhile, you know. I was pretty stunned to see you there in Edge City, even more stunned that you knew what I'd been up to, or down to, or whatever you want to call it."

Clark turned his head. Fuck, he really didn't want to discuss it. He didn't, couldn't, wouldn't--

"I guess, though, that I shouldn't have been surprised. I'd been going up there quite a lot, standing you up, or changing our plans. I guess there was part of me that wanted to get caught, that wanted you to know what I was doing with Ben. It's not like I don't know you well enough to know that you'd become suspicious eventually, jealous definitely, and--"

Clark snorted. "Jealous?"

Lex spoke patiently, as though to a skittish colt. "Yes, jealous. You think I've never noticed how much you've always hated my wives, my girlfriends, and even a few of my business associates? I know that you like to feel special, Clark. I know that you like to think that what you and I share is unique, one of a kind. Irreplaceable."

Clark felt unbelievably foolish and young. He couldn't believe that he was twenty-eight years old and still clinging to these childish desires, and petty jealousies. He wanted to slap himself when he asked, "Isn't it?"

Lex smiled, that knowing half-smile, the one that spelled out the years between their respective ages in no uncertain terms. "Of course it is, Clark. You've always been the most important person in my life. You know that."

Clark nodded. He did know that. Lex had never been shy about making declarations, stating from the beginning that he wanted to be friends, that they would have a friendship of legend. In addition, though, Lex had always made it clear that he would never sell Clark out, give him up, or turn his back. So why hadn't Clark ever told him the truth about The Secret? Because he knew how risky it would be-- _for_ Lex. The knowledge was a time-bomb and Clark still lived in fear of when it would blow up in Pete's face.

"But Clark, I had no idea that you felt anything other than friendship for me."

Clark kept his eyes diverted and held very still, not sure how to respond. He remembered when he was a teenager and he would have followed his first impulse--to flat out deny it. But not any more, he had to pick his battles, and he was learning when silence was the best denial of all.

But Lex wasn't having any of it. He leaned in close, mouth brushing against Clark's ear as his voice, warm and gravelly, burrowed into Clark's mind. "I've wanted you for so long. If I'd known--" His hand dropped onto Clark's thigh, slid up to cup Clark's cock where it was nestled, and lengthening, against his left thigh.

Clark knew that he should move away, that he should stand up and stop this from proceeding any further, if only to save whatever shreds were left of their friendship, and of his dignity. Lex's hand flexed on Clark's cock, grasping it firmly through the jeans, and Clark knew that the pitiful moan that leaked out of his throat would be the only thing that escaped Lex's seduction.

If that was indeed what was happening.

And, God, it sure felt like it.

Lex's hand continued to massage Clark's rapidly hardening dick until it throbbed painfully against the tight denim.

"Lex?"

Lex murmured softly, used his other hand to grasp Clark's chin, turn his head and wet, sweet warmth touched Clark's lips. Oh, God. Lex kissed like violence felt, breaking through with a single, well-conceived attack that brought Clark to his knees. Considering the fact that Clark was sliding off of the subway seat, that example might have become literal, had Lex not fisted a hand in Clark's hair to hold him in place.

Clark whimpered and tried to pull back, the heel of Lex's palm pressing against Clark's cock bringing him close to orgasm like a fifteen year old kid. "Please, Lex, can we--"

Lex shook his head, pulling Clark's mouth back to his own. Lex's hand left Clark's throbbing dick, only to start pulling at the button of Clark's pants.

"Lex! Lex, we can't--" Clark muttered before Lex's lips engulfed his again, swallowing his protests, and brooking no dissent.

Lex's cool, strong hand wrapped around his shaft and Clark's hips lifted of their own volition as Lex worked Clark's cock free of the tight jeans. And, oh God, Lex was jerking him like a fucking jerk-off master; did they give black-belts for this? Because Lex had definitely earned his. How did he know just when to--

Oh.

The air felt chill on Clark's moist lips and he stared into Lex's smoldering eyes. There were red splotches on Lex's chin and cheeks from Clark's beard. Clark realized that he hadn't shaved in several days at the same time he realized that Lex's face was beardless, soft and smooth; he wondered why he'd never noticed before. The flush in Lex's cheeks, the red burn marks, and the glow of Lex's eyes kept Clark silent long enough for any possibility of retreat to vanish, and then Lex was bending--

Hot, wet on his cock--

And Lex's scalp felt soft and fragile beneath Clark's fingers. Clark tossed his head back, feeling it hit the window behind him, thankfully not hard enough to shatter, and groaned at the feel of Lex's tongue twisting around his cock, swirling and dipping into the slit. His hips bucked involuntarily, and Lex's throat opened, taking Clark deeper.

Clark released Lex's head as he neared orgasm, his harsh pants and groans filling the empty subway car, as he broke into waves of hot, rushing orgasm, his cry pierced the clattering sound of the train, and his hands clenched around the edge of the seat, cracking the hard plastic, with a sound more grating than his scream.

Still Lex sucked him, pulling the final tremors from his body, and swallowing them down.

Clark's eyes felt swollen shut, and he didn't want to open them. He felt Lex zip and button his jeans, and then Lex's cool, strong fingers, held Clark's chin. Lips--soft, wet, eager--then a tongue licking Clark's mouth open. Clark's eyes flew open at the taste that flooded his awareness: Lex's saliva and the bitter taste of his own come.

Lex stroked through Clark's hair soothingly and when Clark met his eyes, he saw deep concern there, and a strong, almost aggressive affection.

"Lex--" Clark cleared his throat. He didn't know what to do. Was Lex expecting him to reciprocate? Because--well, he wanted to, but here? On the subway?

Lex nodded, running a thumb over Clark's lower lip. "Don't worry, Clark. We'll take your groceries home, okay? I'll help you put them away; then we'll watch a movie. All right?"

Clark nodded, though he felt overwhelmingly confused.

"Clark, we don't have to do anything if this frightened you. I just thought that you might be ready, after what you'd said, how you'd reacted--but if I was wrong, then we can stop--"

Clark shook his head. The train slowed and the lights of the platform joined the brightness of the subway car. They'd reached their destination; Clark's apartment was a just short walk away.

"Will you carry this one, Lex?" Clark asked quietly.

Lex took the bag and stood up, grabbing Clark's wrist and pulling him up, too. He leaned in and whispered in Clark's ear, "I love you. I want you. It's all up to you."

And Clark watched in quiet shock, as Lex strode out of the subway car, swinging the plastic bag of groceries, and walking with a light step, before following and catching up in a few steps. He felt silent inside, like the orgasm still hummed just under his skin, taking all his thoughts hostage until it passed.

::::::::

Clark fumbled the key, finally managing to get the door to his apartment open. He was briefly embarrassed by his rat-trap home, as he always was whenever Lex came to visit, but then he quickly dismissed it. It really paled in comparison to shooting a load down Lex's throat on the fucking subway. He had plenty to worry about with that whole scenario--fuck the filthy apartment. Who fucking cared? He'd come in his best friend's mouth! That was the real issue here!

Lex unloaded the ice cream into the freezer along with a plethora of frozen dinners. Clark stood leaning against the counter and watched him put everything away. He still felt as though he were missing words.

Finally, a pressing question came to the surface and he whispered, "What about your boyfriend?"

Lex momentarily froze in mid-motion, putting a bag of frozen peas away. "He's not my boyfriend, Clark. We just fuck."

Clark bit his lip remembering all too well what Lex and Ben did together. He knew it was a risk, but he finally said, "I saw you. I watched."

Lex put away the last of the food, slowly turned to face Clark, and leaned against the counter. His eyes were closed and wary, his face carefully blank; it was a look that Clark had become intimately familiar with--the look that said, "I know more than you know that I know, but less than I should, but I'm not going to ask."

And he didn't. Lex just nodded and said, "I see. I have to admit, Clark, I feel a little violated that you would spy on me while I was having an intimate encounter with someone else." His voice was bland, the typical voice they used during these kinds of conversations. Not that they'd ever discussed Clark and his voyeurism before, but--

"I wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you. I was protecting you." Clark knew his voice sounded more defensive than necessary, almost accusatory even.

Lex closed his eyes and gently scoffed. "Clark, I'm an expert in martial arts, I've defended myself against men twice my size since I was nine, and I think I know who I can trust to get naked with, but all of that means nothing to Clark Kent, I guess."

"You could have fooled me. About knowing who to get naked with, I mean."

Lex shoved off of the counter and shook his head. "Low blow, Clark."

Clark remembered a line from the movie _Emma_ (he'd watched it instead of reading the book in college): Badly done, Clark. Badly done.

But so what if he was hitting below the belt. The fact of the matter was that Lex couldn't take care of himself and if Lex wouldn't admit that, then all the more reason for Clark to follow him, spy on him, and protect Lex against his will if need be.

Lex was moving out of the kitchen, though, and apparently heading for the door. Clark followed Lex angrily, grabbed Lex's arm as he reached for the knob. "You can't do this. You can't blow me on the subway, and then get pissed because I'm in love with you."

Whoa.

Clark licked his lips. He hadn't meant to say that. He'd meant to tell Lex off for being deluded, for acting like Clark was wrong to worry, but somehow he'd said something totally different instead, for the second time in nearly as many days, and it was just too much, and too unfair, that he kept betraying himself in such ways.

Lex's eyebrows lifted slightly, and he ducked his chin to hide an amused smile. Clark hadn't let go of Lex's arm, and it was only when Lex's smile faded a little and his eyes hinted at pain that Clark realized he was holding too tightly. He released him and glared defiantly as Lex rubbed the bruised bicep.

"Do you always stalk those you're in love with Clark?" Lex laughed a little then. "What am I thinking? Of course you do. I remember a certain Lana Lang and a telescope pointed directly at her house."

Clark frowned. "Lana had a lot of bad luck with guys. I was just--"

"Protecting her?"

Clark huffed in dissatisfaction, and turned his back on Lex. If Lex wanted to leave, fine. It was obvious that everything was ruined anyway--and that careful balance they'd set up had already been utterly destroyed. Clark stumbled over to his ragged couch and sank down on it, head cradled in his hands.

The couch shifted under Lex's weight as he sat beside Clark, a hand twining into Clark's hair in a way that made all the hairs on Clark's body stand up. It was possession and sexual desire and soothing comfort all in one gesture.

"Did you like what you saw?"

Clark stiffened. How could he answer that question?

"Did you want to do those things to me, Clark? Was that the problem?"

"Lex, don't."

Lex's chuckle ran over Clark's skin like a physical touch. "You wanted to fuck me, didn't you? It pissed you off to see me letting someone else inside--"

Clark turned more quickly than he should have and covered Lex's mouth. "Don't, Lex. I mean, it. Don't."

Lex's eyes flared with interest and excitement. Clark was afraid to remove his hand, afraid of what Lex might say.

"I can't hear that. I don't want to remember. I can't _stop_ remembering and it's making me--" Clark didn't know what to say. He was hard, horny, angry, full of fear and rage. He was completely overcome.

Lex pulled Clark's hand away and whispered, "I can see how it's making you, Clark. And _that's_ making _me_ \--well, feel for yourself." He moved Clark's hand to the crotch of his pants, so that the tips of Clark's fingers grazed the head of Lex's cock.

"Lex, what are you doing?"

"Shh. Don't ask me questions Clark, or I might reconsider this whole thing. I don't think it'd be good if we both panicked right now. Let's take turns freaking out, okay?"

Clark hadn't realized he was nodding, but he did know that he was tracing his fingers over Lex's cock, and that it was hard, very hard. Clark wondered if he could still suck dick like he could that one summer in Metropolis when boys and men had come screaming under his tongue--was it like riding a bike? Never forget?

"Lex--"

Clark barely had the word out when Lex was on him, pushing him back on the sofa, lining their body's up. "Don't think, let's do this. God, I want you. I know you want me, too. Let's not think."

Clark was amenable to that plan.

:::::::

The rough fabric of the old couch left red burn marks on Lex's skin where they'd rutted together, there were further marks on Lex's face from Clark's beard, and they were both flushed from the rush of sexual pleasure.

Clark felt lost in a dream-like state where he halfway didn't believe that this was happening, and halfway couldn't get enough, never wanted it to end.

Lex was pliant in bed, more than Clark had imagined before witnessing the fucks with Ben, but still demanding and aggressive. The way he drove Clark on, pressuring him to keep going, to fuck him, to suck him, to give him everything, made Clark insane.

He sucked Lex's cock, then ate his ass, licking him inside and out with zeal, while Lex writhed and moaned beneath him. He'd rimmed before (Metropolis, red kryptonite), but not in a long time, and he relished the taste of Lex in his mouth, the quiver of Lex's hole against his lips, the clasp of Lex's ass around his tongue.

Clark found that they'd moved to the floor, the carpet equally rough on Lex's skin, burns showing up on Lex's knees, elbows, and scalp. Still, Clark couldn't stop touching long enough to move to the bedroom.

He flipped Lex onto his back, spread Lex's legs, and sucked Lex's balls. The hands in his hair, pulled, tugged, and urged him on. Clark lifted Lex up by the hips, trailed his tongue down and licked Lex's hole again, biting and kissing, until Lex's ripped-up voice begged to be fucked. "Now, Clark. Fuck, please, I need it. I want it."

Clark pulled back, fingered Lex's hole gently and knew that there needed to be something more. Lubricant of some kind. He sucked on his finger, then used it to gently circle and fuck Lex's hole while he thought. Butter? Olive oil?

He kissed Lex's inner thighs then lifted each leg to kiss and lick the backs of Lex's knees, smiling at the choked laughter that elicited. He kissed the bottoms of Lex's feet and stood up.

Lex's eyes, glowing with lust and confusion, met his. "Where? No--"

Clark knelt down and kissed Lex's mouth. He ducked his head further down and bit each of Lex's nipples, grinning as Lex's bright, purple cock jerked at the sensation. "You want me to fuck you? Do you Lex?"

He wanted to hear it. He wanted to hear it forever, until it was the only thing he heard and any begging Lex had done for the stripper was papered over with the begging he did for Clark.

"Fuck yeah. Please." Lex lifted his hips in invitation. Clark stood up and pulled away when Lex's hand closed over his ankle. Speed that made it easier to leave had Clark back within mere seconds, condom in hand, bottle of olive oil open and already drizzling into his palm.

Lex's hazy gaze followed his movements and all protests were silenced when he realized what Clark was doing.

Clark lifted Lex's legs onto his shoulders, leaned over to taste Lex's swollen lips, and then lined up against Lex's asshole, remembered that despite how small it seemed, that tiny hole could handle a lot, and he drove in harder than he meant to.

Lex tensed, cried out, eyes wide with obvious discomfort. Clark froze, startled by the sound, and overwhelmed by the tight, clinging heat around his cock. He shuddered as Lex's ass clamped around him and then convulsed, rhythmically massaging Clark's dick.

"Oh, fuck. Lex?"

Lex shook his head, swallowed hard, then nodded. "Slow, slow, slow," he muttered.

Clark was still afraid to move, but when he felt Lex's ass slowly relax, he found that he couldn't help himself. The urgent, fluid movement of his hips was completely unconscious, and he moaned with each thrust.

Lex's eyes were open now, locked on Clark's face, and his cock gradually filled again after having lost his erection when Clark entered him. Clark didn't think he'd last long, though, it was too tight and hot--and, fuck, _Lex_. Lex whispered, "Slow, slow, slow," and Clark adjusted his thrusts to a more languid movement that held his orgasm at bay.

"Clark," Lex said, on hand cupping Clark's cheek. "Amazing."

Clark dared to look down where he was entering Lex and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut to keep from coming. "Lex, please, oh fuck--"

"It's okay, Clark. Come on. Come for me."

Clark tossed his head, trying to fight for a little more time, wanting to get Lex off from the fucking, trying not to remember Lex's expression when Ben--

"Oh God, oh God, ohhhhh," Clark jerked hard, his cock pulsing and his mouth slack. It was intense. He felt like his life had passed out of him, and spots floated behind his eyes. He was dimly aware of Lex's hand between them, moving hard and fast, then the hot splash of come, the clamping around his cock, as Lex moaned his release.

Clark buried his face in Lex's neck, breathing the scent of Lex's skin, and slowly pulled free.

:::::::

Lex's rug burns were pretty bad, but he assured Clark they would heal quickly. Clark had been horrified and embarrassed at how quickly he'd come, but Lex had laughed and said, "It was a compliment, and if you could have seen your face, you'd know that there is no way I could be displeased."

"But when you fucked Ben--"

Lex had silenced him with a look. "You aren't Ben. I don't want you to be Ben. I want you to be you and I want to fuck _you_." Lex had stood up then, red marks on his ass, knees, elbows and scalp. "Let's shower."

The second fuck was longer: Lex on his hands and knees in Clark's small twin bed, the one he'd brought from Smallville. Clark had been afraid to fuck him again so quickly, but Lex had insisted, and Clark was glad that he had.

Tight, velvet ass gripping his cock, so much better than anything he'd had in years. And Lex doing all the work, with Clark holding still, and Lex fucking himself on Clark's dick.

Clark watched the beautiful play of muscles under Lex's skin as he fucked himself, twisting his hips and riding Clark wildly. Clark loved to see his purple cock push into Lex and slide nearly all the way out, then Lex's hips slammed back to take him in again. He couldn't tear his eyes away from where they joined and his hands wandered all over Lex's skin, stroking and touching.

Lex tensed, and Clark gasped in awe as Lex's ass spasmed around his cock. He held on to Lex's hips as Lex cried out, head back, eyes closed, and come jetting from his cock in thick spurts.

Lex had fucked himself into orgasm on Clark's cock--unbelievable.

Clark pushed Lex down to the bed, ramming into him hard and fast; Lex groaned and writhed beneath him, his ass clenching Clark's cock deep inside. Clark couldn't stop, he thrust and thrust and thrust, seeking a release that was just on the horizon.

Lex gained some purchase with his knees and shoved back against Clark, startling them both by coming again. Lex cried out, "Oh God, fuck, too soon," then convulsed with orgasm, while Clark's clenched his teeth against the intense pleasure of slamming into Lex's spasming ass.

Clark finally felt it rushing up on him, the pull of orgasm like tide, almost, almost, then crashing down on him with a yell, and unbelievable strength. He bent his head to Lex's back, biting down hard when the change of angle causes and intense aftershock. Lex gasped with pain, and Clark pulled back to see that his teeth sank in too deeply, leaving rows of red next to the rug burns.

As he passed out and fell asleep, curled next to Lex, Clark wondered if sex was always this damaging to Lex, and vowed that the next time would leave Lex unmarked.

:::::::

That was a vow soon broken.

The third time was a little different. Clark woke with Lex's fingers playing in his ass, stretching him, and prodding his prostate. And, oh hell, did that feel fucking amazing.

"I'm going to fuck you," Lex announced, and Clark wasn't even sure that he had a choice in the matter. He was still slack-jawed and exhausted from the prior two fucks.

He let his head fall back to the pillow and relaxed into the burning, stretching sensation from his ass. Lex said, "I know I can't hurt you on the outside, do you know if I can hurt you on the inside?"

Clark tried to breathe through the terror that hit him, and he heard Lex's gasp as his ass clamped down on his fingers. He purposely relaxed and ignored the question. Lex didn't repeat it.

Clark hitched his legs up, hooking his hands under his knees, and as rewarded with Lex's mouth sucking on his balls, while Lex's fingers continued their work. Clark lay with his eyes closed, afraid that if he opened his eyes to look, he might tell Lex to stop. And, he really did want Lex to fuck him.

The pounding of his heart made it hard to hear Lex's words, but he got the drift when Lex rose up between Clark's legs, leaned over and kissed his mouth. The blunt press was rough, and Clark knew that it should hurt more than it did, instead it just felt unbelievably good, like his ass had become the center of all that was good in the universe.

Lex stroked Clark's damp hair from his forehead, leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "You are so hot, so tight."

Clark moaned, lifted his hips, shivered as Lex slid all the way in, balls squeezed against Clark's ass. He felt so full, and the stretch made him feel full of Lex up to his throat. He struggled to breath for a moment when Lex started to thrust; he'd never imagined that it would feel so different, doing this with someone you loved. His ass clung to Lex's cock with every pull out, and Clark trembled with the sensation of the fuck.

"Clark, stroke yourself. I want you to come for me."

His own hand was so well trained in that activity, that Clark didn't even think about it as he twisted and pulled his way toward orgasm. Lex's cock in his ass made him incoherent within minutes, his head tossing on the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut in fear of a sudden burst of heat vision, and ragged, needy grunts that were coming from him. He couldn't believe how much he wanted it, and he spread his legs wider, feeling Lex thrust in impossibly deeper.

That's when it happened. Lex grabbed Clark's hand, pulled it away from where he was stroking himself, and changed the angle of his thrust. Clark bucked and screamed, so good. It was--oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! Clark yelled again, and shocked himself by shooting immediately, his cock throbbing, and his ass clenching Lex's thick cock.

Clark bit down on his tongue to keep from crying out again as Lex continued to fuck him, every stroke brought a bright, beautiful, and sharp arc from his prostate up his spine. Lex lifted Clark's legs, shoving them back further, and thrust rapidly, his eyes rolled up in his head, and his body shaking with the work.

Then Clark felt it, the sexy, sudden thickening and pulsing of Lex's cock in his ass, and his hands closed over Lex's hips, squeezing too hard, leaving immediate bruises.

:::::::

Clark woke up the next morning with the sun pouring in the open blinds, and Lex's body pressed against his back. The phone was ringing off the hook, and he reached blindly to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Smallville. Hey, feeling any better?"

Clark rubbed his eyes, glancing over at Lex who was, somehow, still asleep. "Uh, somewhat. How're things there?"

Lois laughed. "Oh, you know, nothing big. Just a few stills from a subway car security camera showing your friend, Lex Luthor, sucking you off, that's all. It looks like a good blow job, too. Judging by your expression and all."

The world buzzed with sudden silence, blood rushing to his ears. Clark's heart pounded in his throat.

"I'm going to give your buddy about two hours to work his evil magic and put a stop to any chance that these will go to print, otherwise--" Lois let the words hang in the air. "Ta-ta. Have a good day. Hope you get blown again. Bye!"

Dial tone. Damn.

Clark's heart hammered in his chest. How stupid could Lex be? Of course there were security cameras! And if Clark had been thinking at all, even just a little, he would have realized that and put a stop to the whole thing.

He flashed back to the subway car, the seductive smirk on Lex's lips, the sudden heat of Lex's mouth. It had been unfuckingbelievably good. Then he remembered the sex on the couch, the floor, the bed--and fuck, that'd been incredible.

But, pictures--

"Lex," Clark rolled over, shaking Lex hard. "Lex, wake up."

Lex groaned and buried his head under a pillow. Clark shook him again. "Lex, wake the fuck up. They're going to print pictures of us having sex."

Lex slowly withdrew his head from under the pillow and rolled onto his back, peering up into Clark's face with not a small amount of skepticism. "Who?"

"The Daily Planet, or something. Lois said they have--"

"No, I mean, who took the pictures?" Lex sat up, stretching and yawning. "And are they any good?"

"The subway security camera, and how the fuck do I know?"

"Grouchy in the morning, aren't you?" Lex smiled suggestively. "I can help you with that."

Clark leapt from the bed before the sex haze that had descended last night trapped him again, and made him miss the deadline for stopping the pictures from being printed.

"Lex! This is serious!"

Lex rolled his eyes, sat up and looked around Clark's room. "Where's my cell phone?"

Clark frowned, trying to remember. They'd started out on the couch, and Clark remembered lots of skin, and sex, and coming, so, yeah. "In the den. I think."

Lex stood up, stretched, his long muscles outlined in the sun. He shook his head, and strode from the room, completely naked. Clark felt obligated to follow him, but not before pulling on a pair of boxers. Clark watched Lex sort through his discarded clothes, and after finding the phone, tap in a few numbers, before wandering into the kitchen. Clark leaned in the doorway as Lex opened the fridge and closed it again.

"Andre, good morning." Lex paused and turned back to Clark; he stood close and let his fingers wander down Clark's chest, teasing at Clark's nipples. "We have a problem. Yes." Lex looked up, caught Clark's eye, and grinned wickedly before darting his head down, and sinking his teeth into Clark's chest.

Clark hissed and jumped back. Lex shook his head, laughing a little, before saying, "Yes, it seems that I was doing something not quite decent on a subway car last night. Security cameras, the usual drill."

The usual drill? Lex blew people on subway cars on a regular basis? Clark folded his arms over his chest, and frowned again.

Lex saw his expression, met it with a concerned furrow of his eyebrows. Clark rolled his eyes and walked back toward his bedroom. He needed to shower. He smelled like sex.

He'd only been under the spray a few minutes, when Lex came into the bathroom. "Hey, Andre's taking care of it."

"Great," Clark muttered, pouring soap into his hand. He heard the sound of Lex taking a piss and then the flush of the toilet.

"Clark? Is there a problem?"

Clark remained silent, and he couldn't say he was surprised when Lex ripped the shower curtain back, saying, "If there's a problem, Clark, let's get it out on the table."

"The usual drill?"

Lex blinked, then smirked. "You are such a jealous bitch. Who would have thought that the strongest, fastest person in the world would be so insanely needy."

Clark covered all of the bases touched on with Lex's comments by saying, "I don't know what you're talking about, Lex."

Lex nodded, and climbed into the shower, too. "I know, Clark. It's okay, we'll just fuck some more, and that'll make up for all the secrets, right?" His voice was more than a little sarcastic.

Clark dropped the soap and fumbled trying to pick it up again. Lex stood quietly to the side, watching with a bland expression.

"I'm sorry, Lex. I don't know what you're talking about."

"The usual drill, huh? I guess we both have secrets then, and we should leave it at that."

Clark bit his lip, considered denying it again, thought about getting out of the shower altogether, and leaving Lex alone. This was a mistake. Sex was a mistake. Now he felt all tangled up inside, but also like all Lex had to do was find the end of the string, pull really hard, and all the knots would come undone, and Clark would un-spin everything.

It was a mistake. Now he was more vulnerable to revealing the truth than ever, and he couldn't put Lex at that kind of risk. Not now, not ever.

Lex's expression softened, and he came close. "Clark, I love you. I don't mind telling you how I feel because you already know. I will do anything for you. Including not asking any more questions. But, in exchange, you need to not ask so many yourself, you need to trust me, and you must stop following me."

Clark shook his head, turned his back, and let the water smack his face. He didn't want to deal with this shit this morning. He didn't want to deal with it ever. Why did everything have to be so complicated with him? Why couldn't he, just once, fuck someone he was in love with and not live to regret it the next morning?

Well, considering this was the first time he'd fucked someone he loved--

Lex interrupted Clark's thoughts. "Clark, I'm not going to see Ben again. I have no use for him now. Not if you and I are together. With regards to my business, I'm not doing anything illegal. The 'usual drill' is just that--when I'm caught with my pants down, Andre knows to get every last scrap of evidence and confiscate it, then destroy it. So, he'll be visiting the subway security center as well, and I'm sure there will be some people who will be paid off for some silence and then moved on to a nice, new career with LexCorp at twice their salary. Okay?"

Clark met Lex's eyes and knew that there weren't any lies in those statements. "Okay."

"Good," Lex said, smiling a rare, open smile. He took the soap from Clark's hands. "Let's go out for breakfast. Frozen pizza just doesn't seem all that appealing to me."

Clark nodded, allowing Lex to soap him down. He couldn't figure it out. Things seemed so normal, and yet not. It was like they had been in this relationship for years, and yet only hours, too. And were they in a relationship? Lex seemed to think so.

Clark's emotions flitted from one end of the spectrum to the other, and yet most of the time they hovered right there, where they were currently--

Everything felt so familiar, and yet so very fucking wrong.

:::::::

It seemed hard to believe that they were just sitting in a diner having hashbrowns, eggs, and pancakes, after all they'd done the night before. Lex seemed fairly untroubled by the sudden change in their relationship, but Clark couldn't stop trying to figure out what it all _meant_. What would his parents think? Pete? Oh, God, Chloe and Lana? Obviously Lois already knew, but how was he supposed to explain it to her?

"Clark?"

Swallowing a mouthful of egg, Clark looked up, knowing that his worry was easily read in his eyes, at least to Lex, or anyone who'd known him for than a few hours.

"Don't worry so much. It'll all work out."

"How can you say that? You don't know." Clark put his fork down and tried not to feel sick. "Your father is dead at least. My dad's gonna flip out. He might even _die_. His heart's never really--"

Lex put his hand on Clark's wrist to stop the stream of worry-words. "Is that what you're worried about? I'm glad that's the only problem."

"Well, no. Now that you mention it, just how the hell is this supposed to work, Lex? You're--you're--well, and I'm--" There were too many things he couldn't say, so he shut up with a frustrated sigh.

"Clark, let's take it one step at a time. The only way I'm keeping my head on straight this morning is by reminding myself that nothing really has to change."

Clark tasted his eggs for a second time, and he swallowed them back down resolutely. "What? _Everything_ has changed, Lex. Everything!"

Clark stood up and would have left the diner, because he really could be melodramatic when he wanted. Besides, if Lex couldn't see that much, then he was obviously not taking this seriously, and he'd been right earlier when he'd thought that it was all a mistake. But Lex grabbed his wrist resolutely, and jerked on his arm in a wordless demand that Clark sit back down.

The only thing that kept him from walking out anyway was the knowledge that he'd just end up back in his apartment, wallowing in misery, and surrounded by reminders of the best sex of his life, and nothing to show for it.

"Of course everything has changed, Clark. I just meant that we don't have to break the news just yet. We can continue to see one another just as we always have, and if you feel we've gone too fast then we can take a step back, go back to being friends--"

"No."

Lex smiled at Clark's interruption. "Well, that was a fast answer. And one that I like very much, I might add."

Clark frowned. "Don't talk to me like I'm a child, or one of your girl-toys."

Lex rolled his eyes, pulled his hand away from Clark's wrist, and started eating again. "You like to make everything as difficult as possible, don't you Clark?"

"Oh, and you don't?"

Really this morning was not getting off on a good foot. Considering the number of orgasms he'd had the night before, Clark thought he should be more chilled out, not sitting on cliff-side and looking for every reason to take offense.

"Obviously the wake-up call from Lois has put you on edge

Clark stared at his unfinished breakfast. Why _did_ he have to make everything so damn hard?

:::::::::::

"Clark?" Lex's voice was quiet in the darkened room. They'd returned to the apartment and fucked a few more times before falling asleep again in Clark's bed.

"Yeah."

"I think I should go."

Clark sighed, and rolled onto his stomach, turning his face away from Lex.

"I don't mean go, Clark. Just leave. I think that you need some time to think this through and I need to get some work done. I cut out of too many business meetings over the last few days."

"I don't really want to think this through, Lex."

Lex slid from the bed and Clark listened to the sounds of cloth sliding over his skin, the zipper being pulled up on his pants, and Lex stepping into his shoes.

"Then don't. No one said that you had to--"

"I don't want to."

Lex sighed. Clark could sense his impatience, as well as the underlying struggle to restrain his frustration. "We'll keep on as we were, Clark. This isn't a situation where--"

"We're not getting married and having kids. I know, Lex, okay. I wouldn't want that. I'm not fifteen any more."

"No, you're not."

Clark sighed and rolled onto his back, pulled Lex down to the bed next to him, and said, "I just want to fuck you and for everything else to stay the same."

"That's what I was saying earlier, Clark. Nothing has to--"

"But it has, and it will, and if it comes down to it, we might not be friends anymore."

Lex smiled sadly. "We'll always be friends, Clark. Even if we're trying to destroy one another, we'll always be friends."

Clark ran his hand over Lex's scalp, fingering the soft temples, then running his thumbs over Lex's eyebrows.

"Clark, let's take it one step at a time. You've already jumped ahead to the apocalypse. Let's let ourselves enjoy this while...."

"While it lasts?"

Lex shrugged, leaned forward and whispered, "I love you, Clark. I always have, I always will. You are the reason for everything I do. The stuff of legends, I promised and I'll deliver. But we can't be sure how that will all come about; only know that no matter what, I'll never regret any part of you," Lex gestured between them, "this, or us."

"Stuff of legends."

"Yes."

"Well, I don't think that my cock is nearly as legendary as Ben's," Clark teased, quietly.

"We can always go back to have a three--"

"In your dreams, Lex. In your dreams."

Lex kissed Clark's lips hotly, then pulled away and moved toward the door. "Don't get up. I can let myself out."

"Wasn't planning on it."

"I know."

"This isn't going to be easy, is it?"

"Of course not." Lex grinned, turned to the door with the stride Clark recognized from business meetings, the post-take-off waltz. "What fun would that be?"

"Oh, and Lex--" Clark smiled softly. "You know, I already called in sick for the rest of the week."

"Well, let's make sure we make that time as hard as possible."

"And seedy, too."

"Seedy?"

"Seedy."

Lex frowned and shrugged. "I'll see what I can do."

Clark used his x-ray vision to watch Lex leave the apartment, then rolled onto  
his stomach, imagining taking Lex back to the bar and showing him off as his  
own. He fell asleep again, waking from a wet dream of dancing with Lex naked  
in front of a room of men, with his seed spattered across his chest.

:::::::

Epilogue:

Clark stood with his hands behind his back, eyes narrowed in suspicion and rage as he watched Lex cross the street and enter the establishment where Ben danced.

When Lex had called to cancel their dinner that night, citing unspecified personal circumstances, Clark had wondered if he should follow him or not. Their sexual relationship continued with a minimum amount of angst considering--well, everything. But Clark was still struggling with restoring a balance of trust and discretion between them now that their prior tenuous give-and-take was blown out of the water and replaced with mind-numbing orgasms.

He'd given into his suspicions, though, when Lex had canceled while skirting mentioning any legitimate excuses. Lex didn't like to outright lie to Clark, and they generally avoided situations that resulted in either of them looking in the other's eyes and uttering blanket untruths, so now Clark was standing across the street, counting to ten before jumping to conclusions.

This was Lex: A could be F, or G, or T. He could just be here to give Ben one last goodbye, but why would Lex even bother with that? It wasn't his style? He could easily say it with flowers. Or a box of chocolates. By mail.

No. Lex wanted something else. Like a fuck from that huge cock! Or a night of endless orgasms with a stranger--no strings attached, no lies to overlook.

Clark crossed the street, paid the bouncer, and entered the club. It was just as it had been that first night, down to the detail of Lex leaning against the bar with a drink. Again, Clark clung to a corner, and kept his eye on his prey--friend, partner, lover, whatever--biting his tongue against his outraged and damaged ego, trying not to jump to conclusions.

"Hey, it's you."

Clark looked down into the eyes of a somewhat familiar face. What was this guy's name? "Yeah."

"I'm Eric. You still stalking that guy?" He jerked his thumb in Lex's direction.

"No."

"Oh. Well, I was gonna say that you might actually stand a chance now. He hasn't been around much, well, at all. So, you know, I was gonna say make a move, but--"

Clark shrugged.

"Buy you a drink?"

"I'm not interested, but thanks."

Eric tilted his head. "You seem different tonight. More...gruff. Less...freaked out."

Clark tried to smile politely, but he was pretty distracted. "I've got stuff on my mind." He was distracted then by a sudden movement from Lex, who was smiling warmly at someone in the back of the club. Clark followed his gaze and, sure enough, it was Ben.

Eric was also looking and he frowned. "Dude, ever considered counseling? You kinda seem to need it."

Clark shoved off from the corner, ignoring Eric's last comment, and following Lex's movements into a back hallway and then stood by the side exit that Lex and Ben had gone out of. He clicked over to x-ray and saw Lex standing next to Ben in the alley behind the building. He had one hand on Ben's chest, shaking his head and saying something that Clark couldn't hear. He concentrated and opened up his ears to capture the conversation.

"No. I'm not here for that. I just wanted to thank you--and to give you this." Lex handed out an envelope. Ben took it, opened it and grinned.

"Wow. That's--wow."

"More than we agreed on, I know, but you deserved it. And I hope you can put it to use in some way. Something that will get you out of this position. You're smart--I _think_."

Ben reached out as though to pull Lex close, but was rebuffed by Lex deftly stepping around him. "Now, you really must excuse me. I need to collect my boyfriend and get going."

Boyfriend? Clark frowned. Lex had a _boyfriend_? When Lex looked toward the door and lifted his hand in a small wave with a full-on smirk gracing his face, Clark gulped and blushed. Oh. Heh. _He_ was the boyfriend--and apparently he was busted, _again_.

Later that night, as he fucked Lex in the hotel adjoining the club, Clark snapped his hips harder and faster when Lex gasped, "You really _have_ to stop following me, Clark."

But Clark had decided that A was Z, and stop meant go, at least with Lex, because there was no way in hell he was going to quit following him now.

 **THE END**


End file.
